


forgiveness in five acts

by lavendorchid



Category: Bodyguard (TV)
Genre: Episode One, F/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendorchid/pseuds/lavendorchid
Summary: She does not need him.And yet –





	forgiveness in five acts

**Author's Note:**

> i've not written fiction in like... 6 years and also i'm half drunk so i hope this is okay lol this ship is worth it
> 
> also this is really short sorry

**i.**

She is aware of the way he looks at her.

Sergeant Budd is unblinking, unflinching in his analysis, and it makes her feel bare in a way she is unaccustomed to. He contradicts her from the moment they meet; he questions her every move, from her use of public entrances to which way her driver takes her home. He is determined to analyse her, but she refuses to accept this. Too many men have treated her this way under the guise of protecting her interests. She will not be controlled. She is Home Secretary, and she is a woman. She has worked damned hard to get to where she is today, and she will not be contained. She does not need his help.

She does not need him. And yet –

****

**ii.**

She is need of protection.

She knows, of course, that she is a controversial figure in British politics, and so when he overrides her pointed sarcasm she allows Terry to take the long way home. When they finally approach her apartment, she feels a sense of anxiety – the origin of which she cannot place. She treats him coldly at first, as cold as the lighting which leads them to her door. She does not want this man, and his cold and critical eye, invading her life, her home. She certainly does not need to see the pitiful remnants of her personal existence through a stranger’s eyes. But she has no choice. They enter, and through his unwavering gaze she sees what he sees; she begins to notice just how impersonal her grey, professional apartment really is, how sad and lonely her personal life has become. She is Home Secretary, and she is a woman. She does not need this stark reminder of her humanity, her fallibility.

She does not need him. And yet –

****

**iii.**

She is in need of an intervention.

She needs to break from him and the way he seems to see through her, even after barely knowing her a day. After a brief internal debate, she calls Rob, invites him over as a form of self-defence. Rob is trusty – like a puppy, he will follow any order with a wagging tail and lolling tongue. Though he does not know it, her meeting with Rob is merely an excuse to rid her sterilised sanctuary of its intruder. She briefly considers the ramifications of yet another late-night takeaway date with her aid – considers that even she must use the word ‘date’ to define these meetings – then decides it easier to face whatever false assumptions Rob makes than the scrutiny she currently feels the weight of. She answers to no man, and no man dares look beneath her icy surface. She is Home Secretary, and she is a woman. She does not need anyone to discover that beyond her work she has little else.

She does not need him. And yet –

****

**iv.**

She needs him to fuck off.

She tells him so, and is ignored. As Budd examines her life in pictures, she makes a feeble attempt at humour – _that was us, plotting to build the Death Star_. She is aware she seems unbothered, callous even, towards the reputation she is accredited as a high-ranking Tory. But she got into politics to help people.

After the divorce, she purged all reminders of her previous life; her life as a wife. All that remains are the highlights of her career – photos with ex-prime ministers, and textual evidence of the few things she has managed to make some difference towards. She knows how this makes her looks; out of touch with the so-called ‘real world’, in which real people have real struggles. But she also knows she works twice as hard as any man. She relies on her charisma. Her professionalism is her armour, and God save the man who strips her of it. She is Home Secretary, and she is a woman. She does not need to sense how false he thinks this all is.

She does not need him. And yet –

****

**v.**

She needs his forgiveness.

At last, she realises just who he is. David Budd is responsible for the limited success, for lack of a better word, achieved during the 1st October rail attack. She gains a new understanding of him, of his stiffness. He has lived through all that she fears. He has lived through all that she works, tirelessly, to prevent. She reads the report too late to easily take back the damage she has already done. No politician’s charm will win him over now. She is aware that she is wrong, aware of when she must apologise. She steels herself as he approaches and, as a result, it comes out more as an order – _all is forgiven_. She offers him her hand in the hopes that he will understand, and take her fumbled apology for what it is intended to be. And when he does, their hands remain clasped for a little too long, and she pretends she does not need the way this makes her feel. She does not need him to like her. She does not need him to vote for her.

She does not need him.

And yet, she does.


End file.
